


A Little Bit Of Subterfuge

by Kendrene



Series: Varying Degrees Of Discipline [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Begging, Collars, Dirty Talk, F/F, G!p Lexa, Light Angst, Mating Bites, Omega!Clarke, Pregnancy, Rut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-22 04:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13159077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene
Summary: “What do you mean, she left?”Lexa halted, almost nose to nose with Titus and, despite having to crane her neck slightly in order to meet his gaze, she made sure to look towering.“I had the Tower searched as you requested, and Wanheda isn’t here.” She ground her teeth, annoyed at how unruffled he remained in the face of her fury.ORClarke has left Polis without a word, and Lexa knows this isn't one of their usual power plays. Consumed by worry for her mate and the onset of her rut, she can do nothing but wait - tension putting a strain on their relationship. How will Clarke manage to show she belongs to Heda, and only her once she returns?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You don't need to read Headlights to understand what is going on here, although I will be happy if you do - but the stories, while part of a series can be also taken as stand alones.
> 
> Please heed the tags, and if this isn't your cup of tea, move along. For the rest of you, happy reading - as usual I treasure your comments and kudos and, while I am mostly set on the smut logistics, if you want to guess what will happen, I'd love to hear it!
> 
> \- Dren

“What do you mean, she  _ left _ ?” 

Lexa halted, almost nose to nose with Titus and, despite having to crane her neck slightly in order to meet his gaze, she made sure to look towering. 

“I had the Tower searched as you requested, and  _ Wanheda  _ isn’t here.” She ground her teeth, annoyed at how unruffled he remained in the face of her fury. 

“What if she’s missing? What if she was taken?” A sharp blade of apprehension - due to her mate’s absence more than the possibilities she’d listed - cut the red veil of her rut to ribbons, and she resumed her pacing, marveling at the fact her feet hadn’t yet dug a furrow in the floor stones. 

“I say left and not missing because her horse is gone too. And so are a few of her personal items as you told me yourself,  _ Heda _ .” 

Lexa knew. She’d known all along that Clarke’s absence was a voluntary one. She clamped her teeth around the whine forming at the back of her throat. She was angry and upset by turns, every last part of her body aching for her Omega’s soothing touch. Her cock felt unbearably stiff inside her trousers and the flesh at its base throbbed and itched, a burning sensation spreading outward to envelop her pelvis and the inner of her thighs. Having Titus and her guards search every last corner of the Tower had simply been a way to ease her own frustration. She had occupied her mind with orders and it had worked for a while, but clearly the game was up.

She turned her back on the  _ Fleimkepa _ , flicking her hand in dismissal and walked out into her apartment’s balcony, not bothering to stay and watch him leave. 

The sky was still dark, but soon enough night would be pushed back. Already, the horizon had started to lighten - from deep blue to a delicate rose not unlike that of the lilies growing at the riverbank - and the city at her feet was waking up. 

She could see a few people crossing the big square right in front of the Tower’s gates, their going slowed by the early hour to a dreamlike crawl akin to that of a sleepwalker. The shouted orders of a squad leader reached her ears, and a pounding of running feet followed as men rushed out of the gates to relieve the night guards. 

Lexa tried to lose herself in the growing din of the city, as she did every morning before duty called her to an endless string of meetings, but her mind kept wandering back to Clarke. And the more it did, the more restless she became, until not even the spectacle of a new dawn was enough to keep her still.

Finally she gave up pretending, and briskly turned away reentering her rooms. Her eyes unerringly found the one place which she’d studiously avoided throughout a search that she knew pointless. It was true what she’d told Titus about Clarke’s belongings - she’d gone through her mate’s wardrobe to find her travel clothes and saddlebags were gone - but she hadn’t mentioned the discovery that had left her so unsettled. 

But now unwillingly she looked, gaze drawn to the table Clarke used to draw. 

The signet ring was missing - and the same nausea that had filled her when she’d first taken in that little detail, made her stomach roll anew. 

It wasn’t one of their games; Clarke hadn’t left to provoke Lexa into keeping her in bed for days - and besides she would have asked. 

Clarke had left  _ for real _ . 

A fresh wave of anger heated her blood to boiling and Lexa lunged, her face a mask of open-mouthed fury. She flipped the table first, sending it to careen against the wall so viciously it splintered. Clarke’s half finished sketches fluttered to the floor and she trod on them uncaringly, mindless in the throes of her destruction. 

And then - methodically, for a being that was burning with an incandescent rage that knew now bounds - she ripped the rest of the room to shreds. 

*********************************************

Clarke made it back in the middle of the night, skulking like a thief up to no good. None of the guards tried to stop her, and if they shot her a weird glance or two she chalked it up to the late hour and the tired way she was slumping in the saddle as she guided her horse to the stables. 

But the ache in her bones, the weariness which had soaked her through like cold rain in the middle of winter were well worth the news she carried. 

Stepping within the Tower proper felt foreign, perhaps because the encroaching shadows of the night turned the deserted halls to caverns full of echoes. The corridors were dark, the little light the torches splashed across the walls unsettling in the way it made her shadow shrink and grow to monstrous size in turn. And a sense of foreboding permeated everything, the air heavier and more still the further up she climbed. By the time she reached the floor where Heda’s apartment lay, Clarke’s heart was beating wildly, the faint, metallic taste of her own blood gathered at the back of her throat. 

At the top of the stairs she pressed her shoulders into the rough stone of a nearby wall, inhaling deeply to steady nerves that were alight with an electric need for flight. But the air that filled her lungs was stifling, redolent with traces of something which she could not name. It made her throat burn like unrefined liquor and, as her lungs filled with it, they seemingly caught fire under her ribcage. 

Nausea threatened to sweep her off her feet, and Clarke dug her fingers into the tiny cracks that broke the wall’s surface for support. 

Gradually the burning sensation receded, leaving a dull ache in its wake. Maybe she’d gotten used to the strange smell that saturated the hallway, Clarke thought as she pushed herself off the wall to stride towards the shut doors at the end of the corridor. 

Yet she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss, the prickling that had started between her shoulder blades when she’d reached this level just getting worse with each step. 

She scratched at her forearms as she walked, her skin itching as if she’d rolled herself onto an anthill. Clarke couldn’t help but compare the deserted hallway to some dangerous beast’s lair, the scent that had scoured her insides like corrosive acid, reminding her of an animal’s musky reek. 

That the hallway laid abandoned was another unordinary thing - guards always stationed outside of the Commander’s apartments, but she figured she may just have caught the lull between a change of shifts. 

Still, this had never happened, not as far as she could recall and her feet started to drag. 

Suddenly she was afraid of what lay behind the closed doors of the rooms she shared with her mate, unable to find reassurance in the familiarity of a threshold she’d stepped through hundreds of times before. The building anticipation she’d felt on her way back from Arkadia was gone as if it had never existed, and when she pressed her hands on the polished wood of the double doors - intending to push them open - Clarke realized her palms were almost slimy with the cold sweat of a nightmare.

The wooden doors slid open with the faintest creak, but the sound bounded off the walls like gunshot and Clarke winced, jerking her hands back. 

She rubbed sweaty palms down the front of her tunic, the cloth still damp with the small flakes of snow that had started falling outside, then gathered her courage and entered. 

The rooms were plunged in a pervasive blackness that pressed down on Clarke like an impenetrable wall, not even the faint remains of embers glowing faintly in the fireplace. She navigated the space by memory alone, each footstep hesitant not unlike that of a traveller who, upon return from a harrowing journey, found themselves a stranger in their own house. 

“Lexa? “ She called in hushed whispers, unable for some reason to pitch her voice any higher. 

Silence. 

Air cut her lungs like broken glass as she breathed, the same scent that had lured and at one time repulsed her in the corridor grating down her throat. 

She took another step and the toe of her boot caught on something she couldn’t see. Clarke stumbled, hands flying to her belly in a reflex as she tried to keep her balance and, when she shuffled forward, the loud snap of splintering wood broke the silence. 

“Lexa?” She tried again, her lips curling to form her mate’s name around a grimace. Her heart was thundering again and her mouth tasted revolting and metallic. 

The rooms remained quiet and Clarke took another step, wood and broken glass grinding noisily under her boots each time she moved. Light, she decided, she needed light to navigate a place that had become uncharted land in the space of a day. The walls themselves seemed to be crowding her as her panic rose like a black tide inside her chest, filling every nook and cranny it could find between her bones until Clarke was choking on her fear, throat burning with it as if she was at sea, drowning in saltwater. 

And then - perhaps because her eyes adjusted to the gloom - she saw two pinpricks of light suspended in mid-air and staring right her way. 

They burned bright red, balefully angry, and Clarke was reminded of what she’d read of Cerberus, the hellish hound which was said to guard the gates of Hell. Maybe what she had scented all along was brimstone, and this being cloaked in shadow was the one responsible for the shambles she was treading on.

A snarl made the air quiver with the same energy of an impending thunderstorm, and she recognized its lilt if nothing else, having heard it shake the very earth of battlefields she’d rather soon forget.

She hugged herself, hunching over and turning away enough to offer her side, arms crossed protectively over her lower belly. 

“Lexa?” Her lover’s name fell from her lips, broken and cracked by her unease, but she only got more growls as a response. 

For a moment she imagined her mate flying at her throat and the muscles in her neck clenched painfully, already preparing for the shock of sinking teeth. 

Rationally Clarke knew that Lexa would die before she hurt her, but her mind was overrun by the acrid scent that spiralled into her lungs. It was saturating and insidious, scorching like the smoke of a raging forest fire, and she found she could not think past her encompassing fright, her thoughts slipping between the grasping fingers of her mind as thin as powdered ashes.

When her struggling mind somehow connected the dots - whether by the helping hand of fate or a stroke of luck she wasn’t sure - Clarke’s entire being was illuminated by the glare of her epiphany. 

Lexa was in rut. 

Her first, instinct-bred reaction was to bare her neck, a low, pleading whine tumbling from her lips. She didn’t shift her position, the same imperative demanding she submit, urging to shelter what she had discovered was within her. Clarke’s eyes screwed shut more of their own accord than actual will and she tensed, her spine draw so taut within its sheath of nerves and muscle she feared it may splinter like a tree trunk struck by lightning. 

She heard Lexa move, and turned her body accordingly, following the crackling sound of shattered furniture. She could feel her mate draw closer, sweltering heat emanating from deep within the Commander’s body, and she imagined that to burn this hot Lexa must be packing a borderless desert inside the slimness of her frame. 

The parts of her skin that were exposed dried and blistered with the impossible heat of a thousand hammering suns, and just when she thought Lexa would simply press into her and burn her to a cinder, Heda’s progress halted. 

The rooms fell quiet again, save for ragged panting Clarke identified as her own, then the hollow sound of knees hitting the ground seemed to shake the ground beneath her more devastating than any earthquake. 

Arms roped with strong, lean muscle went around her waist, and Lexa pressed her cheek against the back of Clarke’s hands, the snarls that had accompanied her advance replaced by ripping sobs. 

“I thought you were gone.” The Alpha cried and her tears were acid eating at Clarke’s skin, “I thought you had left me.”

The words were barely distinguishable, a mess of wet gurgles and gasps, each syllable painfully torn between Lexa’s gnashing teeth as she tried and failed to keep the river of emotion inside. 

Clarke reeled, sick and horrified by her own choices. She’d thought that keeping her trip from Lexa would be the best course, mainly due to the reason that had compelled her to take to the road at the onset of winter. 

She would have hated herself for getting Lexa’s hopes up, if her suspicions had turned out to be nothing more than a mirage, but what she’d set in motion was far worse. And while she could not possibly have known that Lexa was so close to her rut (or had she been to self-absorbed to notice?) she’d caused a damage to her mate that she’d never intended.

In each gut-wrenching sob she recognized Lexa’s need to be reassured. It was a side that Alphas seldom showed, but no matter how tough they liked to posture - puffing their chests and growling their way through life in public - they held within a soft kernel of desire. 

To be wanted and necessary to their mates, fully  _ seen _ with all their flaws and cutting edges, and after that wanted anyhow - it was an offering that could border on miraculous, and Clarke was scared she had forgotten to look at her Alpha that way for a time.

She owed Lexa something that words alone could never cover. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with Lexa's pain at her perceived abandoment, Clarke finds a way to atone and reassure her Alpha that she belongs to nobody but her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> May it bring you plenty of fanfics to read and enjoy! As always thank you for reading my works - I grow as a writer because of you all.
> 
> \- Dren

Clarke began by slowly touching the parts of Lexa she could easily reach positioned as they were. Her fingers stroked her mate’s head softly, starting at the top of her scalp to descend gently and tangle in the wavy mass of Lexa’s hair. She couldn’t see in the pitch black, but Clarke’s mind conjured the images regardless - her pale hands carding through hair of the richest brown, which gleamed with flecks of gold and copper under direct sunlight. 

Lexa’s sobs eased, the silence between each heaving of her shoulders stretching further as Clarke reasserted their bond through touch alone. Every now and then the Alpha would whine low in her throat, dampened cheeks rubbing against Clarke’s lower belly, and she recognized the gesture as the desperate scent-marking of one who had thought her mate forever lost. 

The smell of Lexa’s rut still saturated each and every breath Clarke took, but while before its pungent aroma had almost made her gag, she now felt her body soften under it. She tasted its copper tang and thought she could almost see the heat rippling from Lexa’s kneeling form - a reddish hint of light that lifted the night enough for her to glimpse the angular curve of her Alpha’s jaw when she looked down. 

Her own bones felt edged in scarlet, and dampness gathered at the apex of her sex as Lexa’s call took root within her. Clarke shivered, her body equally divided between the warmth of the Alpha pressed against her and the chill that lingered around her shoulders from the road. 

She ached for the glow of the fire, but when she pulled back slightly meaning to start one, Lexa grabbed her wrists and held her still, her withering sobs turning into a growl of warning. 

“I’m not leaving.” Clarke hushed. 

Lexa merely rumbled louder and, recognizing that no words would quieten her down, Clarke let herself sink to her knees so that they were level, before tucking her face in the crook of Lexa’s neck with a purr of her own. 

The Alpha’s growl lost its hard edge almost instantly, Lexa’s fingers closing around the nape of Clarke’s neck possessively. The Alpha just held her like that for some time, and when her fingers spasmed, causing her nails to dig into Clarke’s skin, she couldn’t help arching into the touch, a whimper rolling from her lips. 

This close the smell of Lexa’s rut clouded her thoughts, and Clarke forgot about the fire. She forgot about the shards of pain lodged into her knees from kneeling on the floor and about the fear she’d experienced only minutes before. 

All that she could think of was the firmness of Lexa’s body pressing into her own and the warmth of Heda’s hand - holding her by the scruff of her neck like a willful pup - became arousing to the point she could scarcely hold still. 

“Why?” Lexa demanded with the same cold, grating lilt that had men far bigger than she was cower in the throne room. “Why did you go without a word?” 

The harshness in her voice could mask neither pain nor fear and, if not for the hand restraining her, Clarke knew she would have been found herself on her belly.

Groveling. 

She took a breath as deep as she could manage, the truth of her endeavor a secret so heavy her heart refused to hold it any longer, lest it end up smashed to a useless pulp between her ribs. 

“I’m pregnant. “ 

Her voice was oddly steady, but Clarke found no comfort in the realization. Yet it felt good to finally say the words out loud, the promise they intrinsically carried solidifying before her eyes. 

She had thought them in her head for weeks, first thing in the morning as she bent double over the bucket she’d had to rush to before Lexa woke, and last thing at night when she went to bed with a rumbling stomach because she couldn't even bear to look at food. 

The steady heartbeat that had come through the medical equipment her mother and Jackson had salvaged from Mount Weather had been proof enough, but Clarke had felt like a sleepwalker all the way back to Polis, as if the news was taking its sweet time sinking in. 

“I’m pregnant Lexa.” She repeated and was surprised she could taste the saltiness of tears on her own lips. 

She licked at them and gave a nervous laugh that turned to a series of sobs she could not hold back. Clarke didn’t know why she was crying - whether it was tiredness or nerves - but the more she tried to keep the sounds from coming out, the more her chest ached. She wondered vaguely if this was what it felt like to have bones so thin and fragile each beating of the heart threatened to crumble them like masonry devoured by age. All in all she was glad to find herself on her knees, because she didn’t think her legs would hold her weight that very second. 

Lexa had pulled back slightly at her words, her demeanor changing. She seemed to soften around Clarke, arms which had trapped her until a breath ago, turning to the refuge that she knew so well. 

“You are?” She asked and, although the question was rhetorical in nature, Clarke nodded. The Alpha’s expression was veiled by darkness, but Clarke could easily imagine what Lexa must look like. 

She shuddered again, violent shivers that rippled down her spine like lightning, and Lexa pulled away, a concerned whine piercing the night.

Without a word the Alpha stood, and her footsteps were followed by the clanking of a flint against a rod of steel. It took Lexa three tries to start a fire, and each time the sparks flying off the metal bright as fireflies afforded Clarke a glimpse of her mate’s face. 

Lexa’s jaw flexed until her cheeks were made taut from it, and her teeth ground audibly against each other while she worked around the fledgling fire. Her brow was knitted in concentration and her eyes held the terrible will of one who could move mountains if she chose to. 

Clarke caught all these in little flashes of detail until finally flames began to wrap around the dried logs piled inside the hearth. The fire was hesitant at first, the light barely enough to reflect orange in the Alpha’s eyes. but as the flames grew hungry their glow brightened the room. 

The orange light ought to have gentled Lexa’s edges - instead it made the struggle with her rut all the more apparent. Heda’s hands were shaking badly, and Clarke understood that was the reason it had taken her so many attempts to start the fire

Sweat sheened Lexa’s brow and cheeks, rendering her skin the same bronze found on ancient statues, and fresh droplets hung at her hairline before they snaked new paths down the planes of her face. 

But what hurt Clarke the most was to meet the Alpha’s troubled eyes. She raised her chin and forced herself to do so, the swirling, forest-green depths of Lexa’s irises holding all the fright that her perceived abandonment had wrought. 

Clarke shivered again and, if her cheeks burned with the heat radiating off the flames that licked up into the chimney, her bones felt frail and old with a numbing cold that wouldn’t leave her. As she tried to hold back a fresh wave of tears she thought this was what a tree must feel like during the cold season, and that the marrow held within her bones had turned to sap ready to burst if she tried to move. 

“You are pregnant.” Lexa mouthed slowly, and her eyebrows did a curious, hopeful jig. 

“I am.” Her teeth chattered and bit clean through the words.

Clarke wanted to shuffle closer to the fire - if it would help dispel the iciness that rimmed her bones she’d throw herself headfirst into the crackling flames - but she was afraid of upsetting Lexa further. 

The Alpha made the decision for her, and reached out a hand to tug her closer to the blissful warmth. Her fingers were gentle now, her touch protective rather than restraining, and with her free hand she hesitantly palmed Clarke’s belly.

Reverence descended over Lexa’s face and she pressed Clarke’s flesh more firmly, the softest purr sliding like a caress down her back. 

“Don’t do that again.” Lexa warned, and her eyes clouded briefly, the glowing embers of her rut glinting red with the promise of retribution if she did. Yet the halting, careful way in which she stroked Clarke’s lower belly robbed the threat of any sharpness. On her knees like that she was a supplicant, and Clarke a godlet waiting for her worship. 

Still she ducked her head and craned her neck to show the pale stretch of her throat, urged both by the guilt she felt at having caused Lexa such distress and the smell of the Alpha’s rut. 

The scent settled like a scattering of splinters under her skin, and grated against her bones each time she shifted, but Clarke welcomed its familiar phantom-itch. The hollowing out that followed was something she knew she could not fill alone and so she moved, turning away from Lexa and lowering onto her elbows with a whimper. 

“I will not.” She rasped, and buried a secret smile against the floor stones when Lexa exhaled sharply at her back. “I’ll  _ never  _ leave without permission, Alpha.” She was playing now, because for one thing she needed nobody’s permission to go anywhere, and for the other because she knew that Heda would never turn her into a prisoner. 

But now her mate needed her pliant and submissive, especially considering the onset of her rut, and Clarke was more than willing to give her that and more if she should ask. After all it was not much of a sacrifice for her to give herself over to the simmering heat that had gathered at the junction of her thighs and, knowing there was new life growing within her body as she dropped down on all fours, had her ache to be made vulnerable in a way only Lexa’s hand could manage.

Lexa growled appreciatively and although she was still dressed, Clarke felt her heated gaze slide down her arching spine as if she was wearing not a stitch. There was rustling, and then Lexa’s shadow fell over her completely, Heda’s arms closing carefully around her waist to draw her close.

Her mate draped over Clarke’s back with a possessive rumble, and the barest pressure of her stiffened cock against the back of her thighs was enough to drive Clarke mad with bottomless lust. 

“You’re mine.” Lexa gnashed and buried a hand into her hair, pulling viciously until her head was pulled back and her neck strained in protest. 

Lexa’s breath painted hot words against Clarke’s earlobe as she continued. “Should I remind you who you belong to?” The tone was deceiving and gentle, but the barbs hidden in Lexa’s words pricked her skin all the same. Clarke relished it, and the restrained violence of her Alpha’s fingers pulling her hair until her scalp pulsed. Pain settled like a brand at the base of her neck and traveled downwards, causing her to squirm. She rolled her hips with a small whimper, ass pressing back into Lexa’s pelvis, and the Alpha’s voice echoed her own, teeth scraping at her throat in response. 

A sudden, insatiable desire bolted through her spine, and Clarke’s back bowed as her muscles rippled madly in its wake. She ached for those sweetly sharp teeth to clamp down and bite, piercing skin. To not simply hold her in place while the Alpha rutted within her and took her pleasure, but to rend her flesh and reopen the mark she sported at the crossing of neck and clavicle. 

Clarke realized she was incoherently whining for it only when she heard Lexa’s cutting chuckle.

She froze, eyes roving madly but unseeing, breath as labored as if she’d ran all the way from Arkadia, and knew that she would have to beg.

Lexa placed tantalizing kisses against Clarke’s neck, flicking her tongue out and nipping at her skin while her free hand wormed its way under the tunic she still wore. Clarke scooted back as far as the Alpha’s hold allowed, ass grinding insistently against Lexa’s crotch. 

The Alpha groaned and the hand that gripped her hair twisted with the effort of resisting the basest of her urges - insistent voices that undoubtedly demanded she press Clarke into the floor and fuck her mindlessly until she achieved the knot. 

“Collar me.” Her voice cracked with the effort of talking past a dry mouth, all the wetness of her body having fled south. “Collar me, Lexa.” 

Lexa was grinding into her with ever louder groans, and Clarke could feel dampness spreading at the seat of the Alpha’s pants every time she thrusted herself forward. Her words cut through her mate’s obvious enjoyment and had her falter until she was stock-still.

“ _ Collar _ ...you?” Lexa asked and dropped the act, confusion etched clearly into each word. 

Clarke nodded and swallowed past a small burst of embarrassment. 

She’d had the collar made by a leathersmith at the marketplace and, if the woman had understood the reason she specifically request it fit her neck, she obviously had valued both discretion and Clarke’s coin more than her curiosity. 

Lexa’s fingers let go of her hair and descended to the nape of her neck, mapping it softly. She pressed her lips to Clarke’s ear with a sigh, and tenderly sucked at it before she cleared her throat. 

“Are you sure?” 

Clarke turned partially, now free to move her head, and nuzzled slowly against her mate’s flexing jaw, nose running down its harsh line until she could place a small kiss to Lexa’s chin. 

“I am not made of glass all of a sudden.” She managed to hold back a snort, but when Lexa huffed - clearly not amused by her retort - she filled her lips with a smile and rubbed their noses together. 

“i want to show you that I do remember who I belong to.” Lexa nipped at her jaw harshly and she gasped, a whine building at the back of her throat. 

When the Alpha moved away to retrieve what Clarke had asked for, she felt the loss of her body’s pressure keenly, and rubbed her cheeks against her sleeve, suddenly close to tears again. 

“There’s a wooden box on my nightstand.” She heard Lexa putter through her belongings and instructed. 

Her mate was back moments later, but for Clarke the span of a lifetime had passed. She knew she would not go in heat - that wouldn’t happen again until she had delivered - but Lexa’s rut had taken residence within her and all she could think of was the Alpha sheathed inside her, painting her inner walls with cum as she released. 

The images alone had her weep with her desire, and only Lexa’s calloused fingers closing around her neck managed to ground her to what was about to happen. The collar was fitted snugly around her throat, soft and yet kind of scratchy on skin that had become over sensitive to every little touch and, when the clasp snapped shut, Clarke found she could breathe easier. 

“It fits you well.” Approval dripped from Lexa’s words like honey, and Clarke watched her stalk around her in tight circles, reminded of a wolf prowling on the hunt. Heda’s eyes were darkened  by lust, her gaze heavy, and the green of their irises spoke to her of ancient trees with roots that ran too deep under the earth for a mortal’s mind to fathom. 

Clarke shivered, feeling like the Commander could strip her of her clothes out of sheer will, and the instinct to present - rump up and face pushed into the floor for her Alpha’s pleasure - became too much to fight. 

A single tear ran down her cheek and she started to lower herself back down, not caring that Lexa would see how wet she’d made her pants with her arousal. But Heda spoke up again, and her words halted Clarke more effectively than her hand could have. 

“I should have you wear it in public.” Lexa stopped, and lines appeared on her forehead as if she was seriously considering doing so. “In front of the rest of the Ambassadors.” She smirked. “Or your mother.” 

Clarke sputtered at the obscenity of the thought, and at the same time she had to press her thighs together, her clit growing hard and straining against the fabric of her underwear. She met Lexa’s eyes, open-mouthed and at a loss, and found mirth embedded deep within them, that and a hunger as hot and ravaging as the fire. 

“I would.” She whined and pushed her chest into the floor, her nipples stiff and aching with anticipation. Her sex flushed, as she imagined how it would feel like to wear the collar for the world to see, and her clit rose higher, poking slightly out of her lower lips with a vicious throb.  

“Such a willing slut for me.” Lexa grinned a smile that parted shadows neatly, and toed off her boots, carelessly kicking them to lay with the mess she’d made of their rooms. The scent of her rut rose in a tidal wave that burned Clarke until she was left at the Alpha’s feet, whimpering and hoping to be fucked. 

She watched, entranced, as Lexa shrugged her tunic off and undid her bindings, nipples already pebbled as her breasts swung free. The Alpha undid her belt with practiced movements and, when she pushed her trousers down her muscled thighs, Clarke realized she was wearing nothing underneath. Lexa’s cock sprung free, thick and rendered fully erect by what had already passed between them. Its tip glistened with fat, milky droplets of pre-cum, and Clarke’s mouth watered at the prospect of licking her mate clean.

But Lexa had entirely other plans. She stood as still as a living statue, her chest puffing out in pride as she felt the heat of Clarke’s gaze roaming the heights and valleys of her body, and then she walked briskly behind her again and out of sight. 

From the shortening of the shadow she projected on the floor, Clarke could tell that she had knelt behind her, and she quivered taut like a drawn bow, imagining that her mate was about to strip her bare. 

Lexa’s hands did indeed go to her belt buckle, loosening her pants and rolling them down far enough to expose the pale moonrise of her ass and her slick-drenched thighs, but Heda didn’t use her any other courtesy. 

Perhaps because of it, Clarke felt all the more vulnerable, the fire’s warm glow heating her cheeks like a slap, her pink, dripping cunt utterly exposed to her Alpha’s leisurely perusal.

Lexa’s fingers caught the edges of her tunic and bunched it higher, to ride above the dip of her hips, until her lower back was fully naked. She then marked her descent back towards Clarke’s inner thighs with nails that would leave red welts along her spine for days to come. 

“So wet and ready. So  _ needy _ .” True and humiliating, Lexa’s words were hard-edged now, and the hand that cupped Clarke’s sex was shaking. revealing the Alpha’s own pressing desires. “You want me to fuck this tight cunt of yours, don’t you?” 

Clarke could only nod, grateful that their position hid her shameful blush as her hips rolled lasciviously into Lexa’s waiting touch. Heda scissored her fingers expertly through her lower lips, and split her open, collecting as much of her arousal as she could and swiping upwards to unerringly press her thumb against Clarke’s clit.

“I want to hear you say it.” The growl came right next to her ear and startled her into a shocked gasp. “Beg for it like the whore you are.” 

Without warning Lexa thrust a finger deep within Clarke’s cunt, curling it against the swollen ridges of her front wall, and the words she’d began to forge together inside her head flew out her mouth in a cry that had her breathless and shaken to her core. Her lungs hurt as if she’d been standing in the middle of a forest fire and breathed not air but ashes, and her vision swam, the firelight breaking into a riot of golds and reds that bewitched and left her dazzled. 

Clarke’s hands spasmed, fingers curling and desperately seeking something to hold on to. She settled for the fissures that she found between the floor stones and she pushed her entire weight back, trapping Lexa’s finger and clenching greedily around it. 

The Alpha let out a surprised groan, her pistoning finger faltering before she caught herself and slid in another. She worked Clarke with familiarity borne from long nights spent making love under their furs, fingers stretching her in preparation for her cock. 

Clarke bucked and trembled under the Commander’s touch, and even when she screwed her eyes shut, blacking the fire’s bright glow out, light stubbornly blossomed behind her eyelids. 

She could feel a hardness building deep inside her belly, the same pressure of a spring before release, and knew Heda’s fingers - as delicious as they felt grinding back and forth into her walls - were not enough to satisfy the empty spaces growing between her bones. 

“Please!” Her wail came high and throaty, body arching back until she felt the rise and fall of Lexa’s chest against her spine, “please, fuck me!” 

Lexa’s fingers abruptly disappeared, leaving Clarke to flutter desperately around precisely nothing. She cried out at the loss, and rubbed her cheek into the roughness of the floor in search for something, anything that could give her some reprieve.

When she felt the blunt head of her mate’s cock slide along her folds she cried all of her relief and pushed back encouragingly. Behind her, the Alpha snarled in warning, low and brutal - the wolf’s last warning before its jaws closed around the chosen prey. 

Lexa drew teasing lines around her opening, before she thrusted forward and slid past it to exert insistent friction against Clarke’s clit. 

She felt pre-cum drool onto her sex, mixing with her own arousal and, when Lexa speared forward to rub her entire length along Clarke’s slit, the wet slap of their bodies joined together was almost enough to tip her over the edge of her climax. She could taste it, like the edge of a blade held between her teeth, sharp to the point of weeping and tauntingly out of her reach.  

Just as she wetted her lips to try and be more convincing in her begging, Lexa lined up to her clenching entrance, letting her feel how broad her girth was before she grabbed her hips and started to push forth in earnest.

The pain of the stretch was like embers glowing cherry-red against her skin, its agony brief and yet sublime. Clarke felt lightheaded and floating, Heda’s fingers digging into her sides the only thing that anchored her to her body. She gasped and cried and begged for more, Lexa responding to her moans with one of her own once the head popped inside Clarke’s tight channel. 

“Tight…” Lexa groaned against her neck, hips already pulling back to slam forward a moment later

Clarke cried out again, legs falling wide open to allow the Alpha to sink in to the hilt, which Lexa did with another guttural moan. Clarke’s name fell from her mate’s lips like a chant and she rocked back into Lexa, feeling her muscles adjust. They held still for a moment, the Alpha panting ragged against her neck and shoulder, thumbs working tight, soothing circles into the exposed flesh of her hips. 

Clarke’s knees hurt, and they would be badly bruised come morning, but she didn’t care she was knelt on stone instead of a soft pelt, or that Lexa wasn’t pummeling her into the mattress. All she cared about was the fulness she felt, the sweat collecting along all the damp places in which her body touched her mate’s. 

But the hollowness abated only momentarily before flaring up again, like the pain of an old wound that had never fully healed. 

“More!” She screamed, unable to be still another moment. She canted her hips back and Lexa snarled, thrusting forward until she bottomed out, the head of her cock scraping against Clarke’s cervix. 

Lexa’s fingers shifted from Clarke’s hips up to her shoulders, holding her in place as she fucked her more thoroughly than she could remember. One of the Alpha’s hands hooked around the collar, right at the nape of Clarke’s neck, and Lexa  _ pulled  _ as she speared forward, leaving the impression of a bruise around her throat. 

Clarke moaned again, heat pulsing along her sex at the thought that - even after the leather collar was removed - she’d bear more than the mating bite to declare that she was Heda’s and hers alone.

Everyone would see.

They would know.

“Mine.” Lexa grumbled with the same tone of thunder breaking loose. Her thrusts grew frantic, each punishing stroke ripping high-pitched moans out of Clarke’s throat. Her Alpha’s hips slapped into her flesh erratically, and she wondered briefly if the whole city could hear the sounds of their lovemaking, only to find she really didn’t care in case they did.

She felt the familiar swell of Lexa’s knot mount with pressing urgency at her entrance, and ground willfully back, rivers of arousal drenching their joined thighs and the flesh between. 

One of Lexa’s hands dropped between her open, quivering thighs, the Alpha’s fingers pinching and rubbing her clit roughly, until Clarke felt her body open under the onslaught, and the knot click securely inside her cunt, accompanied by another flash of scarlet pain. 

She didn’t realize her arms had given out, nor that her orgasm had rushed to her at blinding speed and threatened to knock her out until she felt Lexa’s arms lift her and pull her flush into her breast.

Her Alpha grunted and sat back on her haunches, Clarke practically impaled upon her length. She felt the shaft pulse vigorously against her walls and, craning her head back, she met Lexa’s eyes with a wide-eyed, pleading look of her own. 

“Give it to me, Lexa,” she whined, the aftermath of her release washing down her legs and on the floor, “ _ fill me up _ .” 

Lexa thrust again, her efforts choppy as waves caught in gale-force winds, and then she was coming undone with a roar that ended as her teeth clamped shut around the mating bite on Clarke’s neck, rending her flesh until she bled. 

The sting of the bite had her come again, and she barely registered the warmth of Lexa’s seed as it splashed against her walls. Hot spurts laced the clenching muscles of her inner channel, wave after wave of Lexa’s release filling all the spaces it could find, and some of it slipped out despite the knot securing them together, momentarily numbing the sweltering heat of their flesh. 

The room around them faded as all that Clarke could be aware of was the barrage of sensation coming from within her body. Her muscles fluttered wildly around Lexa, milking her of everything that she could give, before strength leaked away from her like water and she slumped forward, only held in place by the assured strength of the Alpha’s arms. 

It was some time before the knot deflated setting them free, and all the while Lexa held her close, her fingers running softly over a belly that still bore no trace of Clarke’s state.

By the time the Alpha picked her up and moved her to the bed, the fire had died to cinders that cast barely any light. 

Yet somehow Lexa managed to avoid all of the debris she had created, and carefully laid Clarke on the softness of the bed, wringing a cloth into the water of the nearby pitcher before she set to cleaning her between her legs. 

“Lexa…” Clarke pushed up onto her elbows, voice leaden with sleep. “You don’t have to.” 

But all harshness had left Lexa, and she eased Clarke down with a gentle hand and a rueful shake of the head, working the damp cloth over her body until she was satisfied with the result. 

“Klark.” She said finally, throwing the soiled rag to the floor and laying next to her, tone serious. “I...Will you…” She halted, uneasiness clear in the way her body tensed, breath hitching as she struggled with her words.

When Clarke raised a hand, slowly drawing a thumb across the Alpha’s forehead, she was not surprised to find it creased in worry. 

“I will be careful.” She promised, guessing what her mate wanted to ask. 

Lexa nodded, as if she hadn’t expected anything different, but was still relieved to hear it. 

“Will you let me assign you a guard?” Heda asked after another pause, fingers nervously playing with the furs underneath them. 

“Anything to ease your mind.” Clarke asserted even if it cost her. In all likelihood it’d end up being Anya, and they’d drive each other mad within a fortnight. But as she watched Lexa’s eyes fill with the bright tender light only mothers knew, Clarke thought that it was worth it. 

The Alpha curled around her protectively and pulled a pelt over their bodies, their combined warmth gently guiding Clarke to sleep. And in the darkness waiting behind her eyelids she heard for the first time a third heartbeat, echoing their own.  

**Author's Note:**

> [follow me on TUMBLR for more stories and exclusive content](https://kendrene.tumblr.com/)


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